


Pooling

by Elleh



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Blow Jobs, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Pool Sex, slight angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-11
Updated: 2018-11-11
Packaged: 2019-08-22 05:01:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16591316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elleh/pseuds/Elleh
Summary: “I overheard you and Matsukawa talking on our third year. Why, Iwa-chan, it’s hard to imagine you being so kinky.”“Public sex isn’t that kinky. And, by the way, you’ve done to me some kinkier shit than that.”“Shhh, Iwa-chan,” Tooru smiles, pushing himself up, legs around Hajime’s hips, crotch against crotch. Hajime grabs his ass and grunts with the effort. He’s not eighteen anymore. “This is a new beginning. There’s no previous now.”





	Pooling

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lumielle](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lumielle/gifts).



> Gift for [@lumiellle](http://lumiellle.tumblr.com/) for the [Iwaoi NSFW exchange](https://iwaoinsfwexchange.tumblr.com/)

 

Hajime has trouble figuring out _how_ they’ve ended in the pool.

He gets _why_ he is _in it_. Really, he sort of deserves it, albeit it’s still annoying as hell. With a shake of his head, he clears the wet locks of hair away from his eyes. The shirt and pants are glued to his skin, the dressing shoes stones on his feet. Hajime kicks with arms and legs, trying to keep his head out of the water.

Where Tooru stands. Staring at him. First in silent shock, hands in the air as if he can’t quite believe what he has just done. And then…

It stings, a little knife going through Hajime’s ribs. The sound of his laugh echoes on the water, falls in, dips into Hajime’s cells and shakes them. Tooru bends over, so hard is he laughing, and Hajime scowls, and his heart beats a happy song.

“Iwa–chan… Iwa–chan, I’m so sorry– I honestly wasn’t planning on doing that.”

“Fuck you very much.”

“You deserved it, though.”

Hajime wants to show him his middle finger, but he’s too occupied swimming to the border to do it. Also, he did deserve it, and deep down he’s thankful Tooru has cut his bullshit before it got out of hand.

Again.

Hajime makes it where Tooru stands. His arms lock on the stone, holding him on the surface. Tooru, eyes gleaming and still laughing, takes a step back, like the smart man he is.

It won’t work, but good for him for knowing Hajime will give it back soon.

“I did deserve it.”

Smugness shapes Tooru’s expression, but it’s not enough self-satisfaction to hide the hurt still lingering. Hajime curses himself. He’s such a fucking bastard.

“I’m sorry.”

“So you said. Three times, now.”

“Third time’s the charm?”

“Not by a mile,” Tooru says, a smile that could cut the ocean in half plastered in his face. Hajime’s stomach twists. _Shit_.

“Can we at least talk about it? Please. Let me just—”

“Let you what, exactly? Another dumb excuse and I might _drown_ you for real.”

Hajime believes him. The excuses are all piled up in his mouth, a mountain of dirt and poison. Hajime’s tempted of blurting them all out, just to finally vomit them all after six months of letting them fester.

But Tooru deserves better. Hell, _he_ deserves better.

“I was a coward.”

“Yes.”

“I shouldn’t have left,” Hajime whispers, legs kicking hard enough to put himself out of the water and into his knees. Tooru squints, suspicious, but there Hajime stays, soaked and uncomfortable and kneeling. “I didn’t… Some part of me never wanted to leave, and some part of me relished leaving. I know it makes no sense…”

“But it does,” Tooru interrupts, and the _hurt_ , gods, the hurt in his words is worse than a beating. “It would have made sense if you had only _explained_.”

 _Fuck_.

“I know that now.” Tooru snorts so loud he almost sounds like a horse. “I knew that then, too, you’re right. I know, okay? I fucked up. I fucked up big time. I fucked _us_ big time. Tooru,” Hajime’s desperate now, “I never stopped loving you. Do you at least know that?”

Hajime was wrong. Hearing Tooru’s pain was nothing compared to that doubtful face.

“How could I know that, Iwa–chan? You never explained, you never said _anything_. We were together and suddenly we weren’t, and you didn’t even dignify it with a fucking explanation.”

“I—”

“You _left_ , Hajime.” It startles him, the sound of his given name. “You left me like a burglar in the middle of the fucking night, like the stupid coward you are.”

“Yeah.”

“What do you want from me?”

Hajime wishes he could jump back to the water and pretend Tooru’s tears are still from laughter.

“I don’t know,” Hajime muters, lost and confused. “I miss you. I’ve missed you so bad it hurts.”

“You leaving me _hurt._  I don’t care if you miss me. I’m leaving.”

“No, wait, Tooru!”

Hajime goes to his soaked, soaked feet, and takes two steps before catching Tooru. His hand feels small in his, cold and shivery.

“Please,” he pleads, unaware of what he’s asking for, knowing perfectly well what he wants.

“I loved you with all my heart, Hajime.” The past tense is a slap. Tooru’s eyes are as sharp as his words. “Do you understand? What you did… you don’t do that to people you care about.”

“I knew I’d lose you if I told you I was leaving.”

“Oh, of course, because Iwa-chan knows _everything_.”

Fair enough. “I don’t. Obviously.”

Tooru inhales heavily. The summer night embraces them. There’re waves of heat coming out of Hajime’s body and his wet clothes, vanishing in the air. He wants to lean forward and let them disappear into Tooru’s body instead.

“Tooru. I love you.”

“Love isn’t enough, sometimes.”

But Tooru turns, facing Hajime. He smells of soft cologne and of the shampoo Hajime used to buy when they lived together.

“I’ll be better.”

“How can I trust that, Iwa-chan? I believed you’d be better before, too,” Tooru whispers, so close his words send a chill through Hajime’s cheek.

“Because I’m telling you. Believe my words?”

Tooru wants to believe them, he wants so bad he puts his hands on Hajime’s shoulders and leans forward and closes his eyes, the way Hajime knows he does when he’s fighting. And losing.

“Ah, Hajime. You did hurt me very much.”

“I know.” Hajime’s hands find Tooru’s waist, his sides, circle his back.

Tooru will be soaked too, soon enough.

“I’m scared you’ll hurt me again.”

Hajime’s mouth finds Tooru’s jaw. He doesn’t dare move beyond that. Tooru’s hands get buried in his wet hair, his chin on his neck. He feels so real Hajime’s sure he’ll vanish from his embrace if he dares blink.

“I probably will. Tooru. Please, let me try again. I even put nice pants to impress you.”

“Oh, I am impressed. The wet style really suits you, Iwa-chan.”

“Hah. Funny.”

Tooru leans back, and Hajime’s heart pounds so loud in his head it’s as if it’s about to break free from Hajime’s body. At the sight of Tooru’s determined gaze, it does a flip-flop, a little tango and an opera song.

Hajime’s heart is fucked.

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“But I’m deciding the pace. I’m going to decide everything from now on.”

Hajime’s eyebrows go to such downlands he almost loses sight. “Hold on a second. That’s—”

But Tooru doesn’t get to know what that is, for he shuts Hajime with a very efficient kiss. A very efficient, thorough kiss. Tooru keeps his promise: he’s the one kissing Hajime; he’s the one deciding how slow, how tender, how sad, how little. Hajime lets himself be kissed. The fact Tooru’s in his arms is enough to make him weep. The thought of taking charge of the kiss is so far in the cosmos it’s in another universe.

Tooru shifts, his legs find their way between Hajime’s, his hands get rougher, his kiss more demanding. The way their lips meet talks of desperation, of pain, of loss. Hajime can taste Tooru’s feelings when his tongue meets his, when Tooru’s arms circle his neck in a way that makes their whole bodies collide.

They are both breathless by the time Tooru ends the kiss, swollen lips just a breath from Hajime’s. Tooru has the most beautiful eyes when he’s aroused.

“Hajime, you feel the same.”

“I’ve missed you so damn much, dammit,” Hajime murmurs, unable to stop himself. The warmth of his body is a mermaid song to his senses.

“You know…” Tooru’s eyes flicker to the side, the soft movements of the pool drawing clear lines in his expression. Hajime could drink him whole.

“Know what?”

There’s mischief in Tooru’s eyes when they come back to Hajime’s. “I’ve always known about the pool thing, you know?” Hajime needs a second to understand, and another to blush so hard he dries the little wetness left in his skin. “I overheard you and Matsukawa talking on our third year. Why, Iwa-chan, it’s hard to imagine you being so kinky.”

“Public sex isn’t that kinky. And, by the way, you’ve done to me some kinkier shit than that.”

“Shhh, Iwa-chan,” Tooru smiles, pushing himself up, legs around Hajime’s hips, crotch against crotch. Hajime grabs his ass and grunts with the effort. He’s not eighteen anymore. “This is a new beginning. There’s no _previous_ now.”

“Hah. I’m not forgetting the time you begged me to tie you to the bed and spank you.”

“Iwa-chan! I should be offended by the implications I’d ever _beg_ for anything.”

Hajime’s fingers dig into Tooru’s skin; the fabric of his pants is ridiculously thin. Tooru gasps, and Hajime mouthes against the skin of his chin, “We both know I can make you beg for _anything_.”

“Cocky, much?”

It’s just too easy. Hajime rocks his hips, his hard-on rubbing against Tooru’s cock. Tooru’s moan tints his cheeks pink, and draws his eyebrows together in an adorable _I’m murdering you soon_ expression. “Just for you.”

Tooru sighs. The muscles in his ass taut when he shifts in Hajime’s grip, hand clearing the hair away from his face. The light of the pool turns the scene into a oneiric fantasy.

“You are very handsome, Iwa-chan.” Tooru says it with a serious expression, eyes exploring and studying as if he’d forgotten Hajime’s forms.

Maybe he has. Maybe six months of no contact will do this to someone who decided to forget.

“Thanks,” Hajime whispers, unable to say what he really wants to say. _You are the most beautiful thing in this world, if I could I’d spend my life staring at you_.

Tooru’s fingers find Hajime’s jawline, his chin, his lips. He learns Hajime by touch, a finger at a time. Then a kiss at a time. Hajime’s arms are about to give up, but the moment will break into a million pieces if he dares move.

“Would you like to fuck me in the pool, Iwa-chan?” Tooru asks with the same concentrated expression, as if he were speaking of the new wrinkles at Hajime’s eyes.

Hajime feels himself getting harder.

“Tooru… We don’t have to rush this.”

“We aren’t coming back here, ever.” Tooru’s eyes lock with Hajime’s, and they are intense. “If you wanna fulfill this specific teenage fantasy is now or never.”

Hajime blushes. Stupid Oikawa. “Calling it a teenage fantasy is a bit too much, don’t you think?”

“Don’t worry, Iwa-chan. We always knew you were a pervert deep down.”

Hajime throws Tooru into the water at that. The little shriek Tooru lets out disappears on the loud splash of Hajime throwing himself into the water, right next beside him.

“Iwa-chan! Do you know how fucking expensive this shirt is?”

“No. Let me take it off for you.”

Tooru squints at him and swims away. “You think you are really smart, don’t you?”

“Yes. Come here.” Hajime swims after him.

“Never. You are not fulfilling your stupid horny teenage dream anymore, you brute.”

But Hajime grabs Tooru’s waist, and the lie gets lost in the little waves. Tooru glues himself to Hajime’s front, and sighs a happy sound when Hajime’s arms lock him in place.

“Take it off.”

“In a sec. Just keep hugging me like this for a bit.”

Not a difficult order to comply, really. They float around, tangled as if they’d been born like this and these last months had been the most unnatural separation of their lives.

After a while, Tooru squirms in his arms, ass pressing urgently against Hajime’s crotch.

“Subtle.”

“I was not trying to be subtle, thank you.”

Hajime’s hand finds its way down Tooru’s stomach and palms him over his pants. Tooru sucks a breath, and Hajime does it again. “Stop playing and do it properly.”

“So impatient.”

Hajime takes Tooru to the border, sits him there, and takes his pants off. His underwear is white and soaked, so Hajime can see everything that’s hidden underneath. His mouth waters. With a bit more roughness than he’s intending, he separates Tooru’s knees, drags him a bit closer, and kisses his cock.

Tooru moans. Hajime, mouth still drawing Tooru’s shape through the fabric, stares up. The best sight he’s ever seen is Tooru biting his lower lip while Hajime eats him out.

“Take your shirt off,” Hajime says against his cock.

While Tooru starts undoing his buttons, Hajime’s tongue darts out, licks Tooru’s cock, its tip, the shaft visible through the fabric, the little bit of his balls he can see as if he were naked before him. Tooru’s breath is raged, Hajime’s favorite sound.

“Iwa–chan…”

Hajime’s hands massage Tooru’s thighs, the little scar on the right knee, up down again almost brushing his crotch. Tooru bites his lip and holds a badly contained moan when Hajime licks his cock, tip to bottom. His shirt is now open, his chest wet and glistering. Hajime wants to eat him whole.

“Lift your ass.” Tooru does. Hajime’s fast while he takes his underwear off, throwing it somewhere on the water.

Tooru opens his legs, making room for Hajime again, cock hard and wanton. He’s red in patches, nails digging on the ground.

“You look like a feast.”

“Enjoy the meal,” Tooru whispers, red to his collarbones.

Hajime’s eyes never leave Tooru’s. He leans forward, staring back at Tooru’s pleading gaze, and his tongue darts out, tempting, and Tooru’s cock jumps at the sight, and jumps again when Hajime brushes the tip of his cock.

“Oh, Hajime.”

Soft brushes give way to light kisses. Tip, shaft, bottom. Hajime licks Tooru’s balls, and Tooru goes to his hands and pushes his hips off the floor, unbidden. Hajime’s hands calm the taunted nerves of his legs, his mouth moves up, Tooru shivers.

Tooru prides himself of his ability to hold his pleas, but Hajime knows exactly what buttons to press to make him lose his mind. He keeps teasing his cock with his mouth and tongue, his hands close just never close enough. It’s only when Tooru’s back’s pressed to the ground, hips undulating in silent demands, that Hajime takes him deep into his mouth.

Tooru moans, loud enough to wake the whole neighborhood, and Hajime starts bobbing his head, using his tongue here and there, hollowing his checks and sucking till Tooru’s feet leave the water and find Hajime’s shoulders.

“Hajime, fuck, do it again.”

Hajime does it again, but slower, and Tooru trashes on the ground, and his hips move uncontrollably, trying to catch Hajime’s mouth and Hajime’s rhythm again.

Sucking Tooru has always been Hajime’s favorite activity. The one-sidedness of it fills him with glee. He sucks again, hard, and Tooru moans and groans and grabs his head and starts fucking his mouth with abandon.

Hajime lets him. Shit, he’s so hard already he’ll probably come as soon as he touches himself. Better let Tooru fuck his throat and come in his mouth than pretend they can do something more and end up in teenage embarrassment.

“Fuck, Hajime, your mouth…”

Hajime moans around him in agreement, and Tooru arches his back and screams, filling Hajime’s throat with hot, choking relief.

“Dammit,” Tooru muters. Hajime watches him shiver through the remains of his orgasm and swallows and swallows, trying to ease the taste off his mouth. He glances down his body, still dressed and painfully aroused.

“Dammit, Hajime.” Hajime looks up again at Tooru’s enraged expression.

“What?” A drop of come falls from Hajime’s mouth.

“You weren’t supposed to blow me to the _end!_ ”

“ _You_ did that.”

“You know what I mean!” Tooru sits and yanks Hajime from his shirt. The kiss is sloppy and wet and tastes nasty, but Hajime melts to it. “You were supposed to fuck me here like that stupid fantasy of yours.”

“I just did that,” Hajime answers, smug and happy, albeit pained to his balls.

“You are impossible.”

They kiss again. A part of Hajime’s brain wishes they’d done it here at seventeen, when he could have sucked Tooru to orgasm, get a ten-minute rest and have him in his four next.

But there’s experience in Tooru’s kiss, familiarity. There’s a life lived in the way their tongues meet, how Tooru’s hands find Hajime’s shoulders, his arms, his hands.

“You’re still hard,” Tooru says between kisses.

“You think?”

Tooru jumps in the water, never stopping his kisses. His legs go once again around Hajime’s waist, arms a lock on Hajime’s neck. Tooru squirms against him, his kiss a perfect imitation of a porn movie scene. Hajime’s rocking, hard cock meeting Tooru over and over.

“You haven’t come in your pants in a while,” Tooru whispers, amused, and Hajime groans but keeps kissing him, keeps gliding against Tooru’s crotch, searching for longer friction, for harder contact.

“Hajime. I love how you feel against me.”

Hajime does too. He loves how their bodies fit, how their mouths seem perfect when they are shaping each other. Hajime takes them to the border, holds Tooru still, and rocks and rocks, imitating what they have no stamina left to do. Tooru bares his neck and Hajime bites it, and meanwhile, his hips thrust harder, eliciting a soft moan from Tooru’s oversensitive mouth and a groan of pleasure from Hajime’s.

“Tooru. I…”

Tooru gets it. He takes one of his hands, undoes Hajime’s pants like a pro, and grabs him with sly intent. Hajime mouthes a kiss, but the pleasure of Tooru’s grip, of the long strokes, doesn’t allow his concentration to focus on anything deeper. He gasps against Tooru’s smiling mouth, hips following Tooru’s hand.

“Ah, Iwa-chan. Your weight is amazing.”

“Fuck, Tooru. I want to fuck you.”

“Tell me how,” Tooru whispers, speeding up his hand. He moans low in his throat, and Hajime’s cock reacts as if it were a direct lick to it. “Would you do me in the water, Iwa-chan?” Hajime nods, with his head and his cock. Tooru laughs. “How? Would I be in your arms just like now, your cock drilling in me?” Hajime’s breathing stutters. “Or would I be on the border, butt naked, you fucking me from behind?”

“Holy fuck.”

“You like that, Iwa-chan?”

Yeah. Hajime has a thing with Tooru’s back. The way the muscles move when he’s inside of him is a sight of wonder.

“Tooru, do it harder.” Tooru does it harder. His hand speeds enough to create waves around their bodies. Hajime cries against his neck, hips following his hand, and before Tooru can keep explaining his fantasy, Hajime comes and comes and comes.

“Fuck, Tooru!”

They are both gasping, the sounds of waves crashing filling the space between their rushed breaths. Hajime’s forehead rests against Tooru’s shoulder, Tooru’s legs still circling Hajime’s hips.

“Shit. Now I want to fuck you here just how you said. You always do this to me,” Hajime complains, breathless. Tooru’s chuckle is soft and sweet and Hajime wants to drink it. “Tooru. Is this…?”

Tooru, eyes closed, cocks his head to the side. There’s red in his skin, a bruise in his neck. Hajime wants to kiss him again and never stop.

“I love you too. Of course this is not a revenge fuck or whatever you’re thinking.”

“I’m so sorry, Tooru. I regret the way I managed things.”

“I know.” Tooru opens his eyes. There’s resolution, in them, and a wall Hajime promises right here and now he’ll see undone. Soon. “Also, we should probably leave before someone finds us here. We were pretty loud.”

He means _he_ was pretty loud, but adrenaline kicks in, so Hajime’s words don’t find their way out.

It takes them longer than it would have; the wet clothes are the devil incarnate, and Hajime can’t stop kissing Tooru on the lips, on his lower back, on his collarbone, and his knee and his chest. And Tooru stills and lets himself be kissed, and then laughs, and then Hajime has to mock him, and the clothes are forgotten, and so is the danger of someone finding them.

They leave before they get caught, but not before Hajime draws a plan to come back.

Soon.

He’s fulfilling that stupid fantasy.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I might make that fantasy real after all…
> 
> You can find me at my [writing blog](https://negare-boshi.tumblr.com/)


End file.
